


homin | sunday mornings

by plincess_cho (ai_hao)



Series: Domestic Life | Yunho x Changmin [8]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 15:50:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10390281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ai_hao/pseuds/plincess_cho
Summary: Yunho and Changmin spend a quiet morning in Italy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by @tapunyr ; combining the shootings for El Sol and Ti Amo

It’s early one Sunday morning and Yunho wakes up with the sun. He checks his watch and decides he has time to make it to mass, if he runs. He hurries to throw on some presentable clothes (possibly Changmin’s), brush his teeth (definitely Changmin’s toothbrush… oops), and shove his feet into a pair of shoes (not Changmin’s for once), before running out to the door.

He runs down the streets of Milan to find the little church they had passed by the day before. He sees no one around and worries that he’s incredibly late. He hurries up to the church door and slowly cracks it open. Upon hearing nothing, he opens the door further and tiptoes inside, careful not to disturb the prayer.

Except, there is no prayer. There is no priest, no deacon, no congregation, nothing. Just the calm hush settled over the little chapel.

Yunho walks into the sanctuary anyways. He takes a few deep breaths to slow his breathing before sitting down in one of the pews. The church itself must be quite old, and he gazes around the chapel in awe. The sun filters through beautiful stained glass windows, lighting the statues inside with blues, greens, and purples. Gorgeous tapestries hang on the wall, somewhat faded with age. He looks ahead to the high altar to see several beautiful paintings depicting different scenes from the Bible. Yunho crosses himself and bows his head in reverence.

He realizes that the church must not hold mass anymore, so he decides to have mass for himself. He sits quietly, remembering the liturgy from his youth. He repeats several prayers he memorized as a boy and then kneels down to pray. He prays for the world, for his family, for his friends, and finally, for Changmin. He prays for Changmin’s health, for Changmin’s strength, and for Changmin’s happiness.

Yunho rests his hands on the pew in front of him and gazes at the beautiful artwork. He wonders about the artists who crafted each piece and knows they must have done so with immense care for the artwork is truly stunning. He thinks about his own career as an artist and pray that he can put as much love and care into his own performances.

Finally, Yunho offers up a final prayer of thanks, thanking God for helping him to achieve his dream, for helping the two of them achieve their dreams. He says a final _amen_ and gently touches his hand to his forehead, stomach, and shoulders. He gets to his feet and walks slowly out the door, admiring the organ pipes on the balcony above on his way out.

He steps into the sunlight and strolls down the sidewalk on the way back to their hotel. He stops to buy a newspaper (English), some pastries (French), and two coffees (Italian). He briefly considers stopping at a _gelateria_ for a morning gelato but finds the shop closed since not many people eat gelato early Sunday mornings.

Yunho swipes the key card for his hotel room and the lock lights up green, allowing him entry. He steps out of his shoes and heads straight for the bedroom portion of the suite and finds its occupant still fast asleep, completely buried under the comforter. Yunho chuckles to himself.

“Good morning, Changdola,” he calls softly.

The blanket pile remains silent.

Yunho sets the coffees and pastry bag on the bedside table before climbing onto the bed next to the lump. He searches for the edge of the blanket to pull back but only succeeds in finding more blanket. Instead, he decides to gently peel back the blanket top to reveal a mussed mop of dark black hair and quietly snoring Changmin. He tugs the blanket down until he can see Changmin’s entire face and says again, “Good morning, Changdola.”

A hand reaches out from the blankets and pulls the comforter back over his head. Yunho just smiles and settles himself onto the bed next to the pile of blankets. He reaches for the newspaper and his coffee, reveling in the warm steam emanating from the coffee cup. He opens the paper with a rustle, earning a grumble from within the blankets.

“Looks like the prime minister of Italy is heading to Japan next month,” Yunho says. He ignores the grumbles from the blankets and continues perusing the paper’s headlines. He can only read some of them and decides to make up stories for the rest, solely based on the pictures. There’s one about a tiger going into space that gets a grumble, one about a footballer whose secret dream it to become an opera singer that gets a groan, and one about a spaghetti carbonara shortage that gets a quiet yelp. Yunho just giggles into his coffee until he remembers the bag of pastries. He reaches over and opens the bag and suddenly the blanket pile comes alive.

“Is that breakfast?”

Yunho turns to see a very sleepy Changmin, his eyes cracked open just a smidge, his hair fluffed in all directions, and a line of drool on the side of his chin. “Oh so now you’re awake,” Yunho says with a smile. He holds up the pastry bag and says, “Got coffee too.”

Changmin evacuates his duvet and scoots closer to Yunho to reach into the bag. He pulls out a pastry and Yunho hands him his coffee. Changmin munches happily on his pastry, leaning against Yunho to peer at the newspaper. He rests his chin on Yunho’s shoulder as they read about the weekend’s football scores together.

Yunho doesn’t even comment when Changmin drops powdered sugar from his pastry all over Yunho’s lap. He lets Changmin drape himself over Yunho’s shoulders to get a better view at the newspaper and laughs. Changmin can’t read the English words any better than he can, but he tries more diligently.

In the end, they turn to the funnies page and try to decipher the comic strips. Yunho makes up incredibly random stories that earn a guffaw and a “hyung, _please_ ” from Changmin.

“Why’d you get up so early this morning?” Changmin asks once Yunho closes the newspaper.

Yunho shrugs. “I was up early and thought I could make morning mass.”

“And did you?”

“I went to the chapel down the street, the one we took photos in front of yesterday. The interior is gorgeous, even more ornate than the outside. But… I don’t think they hold mass anymore because the place was empty. I just sat inside and prayed instead.”

“Ah,” Changmin replies.

“I prayed for my family and my friends and, well, you,” Yunho says, scratching his ear sheepishly.

Changmin’s eyes widen and the tips of his ears redden, causing Yunho’s heart to melt a bit. After all these years, he still finds it endearing how genuinely touched Changmin is when he hears that other people think about him.

 _“I still can’t believe we actually have fans… that_ I _actually have fans. Or that people think about me when I’m not with them? How weird is that!”_ Changmin had confessed to Yunho once.

 _“I always think about you when you’re not around,”_ Yunho had informed him.

The tips of Changmin’s ears had turned a bright red as Changmin squeaked out a, _“Really?”_

 _“Of course.”_ And he’d meant it.

_“But… why?”_

Yunho had given him a look of confusion and amusement. _“What do you mean why?” he’d asked. “Because I miss you when you’re away, that’s why.”_

That comment had set Changmin’s cheeks burning as red as his ears.

“Thanks,” Changmin says softly now. He sips at his coffee and leans up against Yunho, pulling the comforter back over his legs.

They spend the morning like that. At some point, Changmin falls back asleep and Yunho reaches for the remote to watch some Italian cartoon that he doesn’t understand. He can’t help but smile to himself when he realizes that he’s in Italy, one of the most beautiful countries in the world, but instead he’s sitting in some hotel room with Changmin snoring in his lap. He chuckles softly and pulls the blankets over Changmin’s shoulders. He wouldn’t trade this for the world.

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love ^^


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